how many times I have pulled the pin and set words to flight,
hardening my hope that this would be the last
the only other time
sifting through the remains of everything...nothing...it all turns to ash
my pen has shattered many a sword,
ink droplets trail
a corpse, companioned, lays in waiting
justification always seemed
the ash shifts restless beneath my shuffling frame
condemned
how ironic for the defender to be cast down
reflections in glass pools, water shimmers
light evades the twilight shadows
bracing myself, the pins pulled again
my words explode upon sudden impact
the walls, so dutifully built, lay in ruin
mortar and flesh now mingled in dance
my own pen, thrust heart deep
fathoms of turmoil,
un-caged flightless bird
dispense inner monologues of intense scrutinizing frailties
selfless selfishness,
mirrored glances
undefined definitions of ash sodden thoughts
the loved lay in ruin, hearts ache now in bloom
dust covered concepts
unearthed after war-torn truths erupt
we are all on the same side
why are there so many factions?
I used to have sights set upon the horizon
the fog has confused my destination
I still search, the peace lays near
never-the-less
my verbal assault lays in waiting,
tongues catapult made ready to engage
a casualty, I am not.
-J.G.Smith (09/08/05)
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